


Aaron Hotchner's Capacity for Love

by goobzoop



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminal Minds Setting, F/M, Love, M/M, One Shot, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 01:44:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21091325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goobzoop/pseuds/goobzoop
Summary: Fluff on relationships, love, and the reasons why Aaron loves Spencer. And Haley, even.Because Aaron can love fiercely, and passionately, and tenderly, too.This takes place in an AU where Aaron and Haley were not married didn't have Jack.





	Aaron Hotchner's Capacity for Love

Aaron Hotchner knew from the time that he was around 13 that he liked girls. Fresh flowery fragrances and soft and delicate smiles. Girls. A few times in school a pretty classmate had batted her eyelashes, or said sweet somethings to Aaron, or even things as simple as “Hello”, and it had made his heart beat. Fast. Blood rushing, head spinning, woozy in the stomach kind of fast. It was a delightful surprise. It was his first introduction to the greedy, beating, muscle in the center of his chest.

Aaron was surprised to note when this same occurrence started happening around _boys_, too, one year later. There he was, woozy again. There had been boyish grins, and playful shoves. Butterflies had started their ascent from the cocoons in his belly, and congregated, many, so many butterflies in his stomach, that he felt like he just might burst. Apparently, then, boys were an option too. The surprise wasn’t unwelcome, but rather a curiosity that he fully intended to explore. 

By the time Aaron hit college, he could fully appreciate the slender curvature of a delicate waist, and the sloping ridges of a well-trained bicep. He enjoyed little flirtations in the courtyards with big blue eyes, long thready braids, and billowing summer dresses. He similarly sought out dark mischievous grins, subtle lingering glances, and scratchy 5’oclock shadows. To say that Aaron was well versed in the ability to appreciate the beauty of a person, well, one would be absolutely correct. 

Most of all, what Aaron preferred, what he sped towards, fast, like a heat seeking missile, over any sort of physicality, or allure of the human body, was the unique character of a person; that one special essence or twinge of ipseity that made a person uniquely themselves. If Aaron were a spiritual man, he may call it an Aura. A soul. But more likely it was an identity, a character, a charisma. It wasn’t merely what lay between the legs, but in the mind; what spilled out of the mouth, or was made by the hands. He met many people. He envied, he admired, he idolized. He would see a person for who they were. He sought out these bright auras, these beautiful souls. And while he admired many, he loved only once. 

Except, maybe, one other time, too. In high school. There was Haley. She was magnetic, and Aaron clung to her as if all his atoms were intertwined with hers, and he couldn’t possibly, not even if he wanted to, separate himself from her. Haley loved him fiercely. She gave him what she had. She shared herself with Aaron. She, loving, nurturing, idealistic. She, who time and time again persevered through whatever obstacle was tossed her way. Her enduring spirit. Her brave smile in the face of adversity. Aaron adored these qualities that made Haley the elegant woman that she was, and was becoming. But that’s the thing about growing up; you’re evolving. You’re still becoming. And when you finally get to where you want to go, sometimes you look back at your magnet and see that their poles aren’t the same ones they used to be anymore. Or maybe it’s yours that are different. Maybe it’s both. But it doesn’t matter. You’re not clinging together now. You’re sliding, moving, shifting. You’re drifting. You’re running, fast, being pushed with the force of all of your atoms against the force of all of theirs, and you’re saying, this isn’t _right_ anymore. And then it’s over. You’re far, far away. Separate. And it was okay. 

And then there was _love_, love. The time Aaron met Spencer. All wispy hairs, earthy tones, and shifty smiles. Legs, limbs, lips. New ideas, new words, new everything. Learning, so much learning, about things, and concepts, and each other. Endless conversation, and lessons on the meaning of trust. When it came to Spencer there wasn’t a fantastic pull that had them clashing and sticking and melting together. By the time that Aaron realized that he loved Spencer, it was too late. It was a simmering glow. It was the sun burning bright in the morning, and then slowly dripping, a honey sort of drip, down the sky, that by the time it reached the edge of the earth, by the time it was setting for the day, it was so natural and welcoming, so undefinably beautiful, bathing the earth in deep yellows, oranges, and reds, that the end of the day was the only natural conclusion to be had. And Spencer was Aaron’s sunset. He was bright. Burning passion. Endless Energies. He softened. He glowed. He gave out simmering, warm love. He bathed Aaron in his yellows, in his oranges, and in his reds. Aaron swam in his brilliance. He, with awe in his eyes, watched his lover shine his brilliance out on the world, and with tenderness in his eyes, watched him shine it on him. 

A third. Then there was the third time. Except he didn’t know it yet. It was just a name on a paper. A paper that he would seek out in his missile sort of way. Because that was the type of person that Aaron was. His character, strong, enduring, ambitious. He would take his love, his bright, burning sun, and with him he would create something brighter than light itself. Spencer would argue that wasn’t technically, or scientifically, possible, because that was the type of person that Spencer was. But when Aaron and Spencer read that one name on that one paper, Aaron could have sworn that he saw something brighter, and Spencer agreed. It was a simple name. Four letters. A name that he would eventually come to say every day. It would spill out of his mouth like cereal into a bowl. _Jack._  
And this time, this love, different from the first, and the second, though that one still shone bright and burned deep, gave him a new type of love. A shared loved. The love of a child, of a family, and of a home; Jack.

Aaron Hotcher knew love, and he knew it very well.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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